


Wild Thing

by morefoxxx (justafoxhound)



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Kink, No Spoilers, One Shot, Praise Kink, Smut, crygasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 22:26:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17170592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justafoxhound/pseuds/morefoxxx
Summary: Arthur completes a job with one of the newer gang members, a volatile young woman who nevertheless has caught his attention. With an odd tip from a stranger, Arthur is the only one who can calm her and allow her to feel more comfortable in her life as an outlaw.





	Wild Thing

**Author's Note:**

> This was extremely indulgent. Artistic licence taken with lingerie.

A dancing girl and a gentleman walked into a bar. The job had been Hosea’s idea:  he and Lacey were to check in at the Bastille Saloon in Saint Denis, dress up like a moneyed man and a dancer, and make their way to the theatre just before the show. Hosea assured them he had a way to get them inside and make them a heap of money. He hadn’t let on more than that- would be entertaining he’d reckoned. Well, Arthur had been dubious, but he trusted the old trickster and here they were. They’d got away with no one the wiser, and had the night to celebrate in style.  

Lacey Cole had been with the gang a few months. Quite attractive when she wasn't angry, which was often, but she got things done and appreciated good whisky, so Arthur enjoyed her company half the time. Several drinks later and the bar was packed.

“I can't believe Hosea didn't tell me what I'd be doing though. When I get back he has some answering to do." Lacey took a shot and lined up the next from the barman, her southern drawl taking much of the sting out of her irritated tone.

Arthur laughed, "Come on, we got paid, and he was right- it was entertainin'."

 "Yeah- for you," Lacey shot him a look as he merely concurred with an amused expression, downing his whisky. "I am leavin'. You’re laughin’ at me and everyone else in here is lookin' at me like I'm a piece o' meat." She stood up and began winding her way through the crowd before Arthur could say anything.

He sighed and turned back to the bar, waving the bartender over for another drink. Before he got his order out, he heard an almighty commotion behind him. Turning swiftly, he saw a man being doused in his own drink and cursed to hell by the blonde one-time dancer. A small circle of patrons was already forming to watch her brow-beat the poor fool, cheering as he tumbled over his stool into a heap on the floor. Despite their fine clothes, even these city folk still enjoyed a spectacle.

Hastily Arthur carved his way through the crowd to separate the pair, which was easier said than done. “What the hell has gotten into you!” It was quite an effort even for him to hold Lacey back from doing any more damage. “It’s never easy with you is it?”  
  
“That piece of slime grabbed me. Thinks he can talk to me like that and then touch me-” she broke off as she attempted to launch herself at the man once more. The crowd brayed for more.

“HEY! What in the hell is goin’ on here?!” The bartender had made his way into the circle and looked ready to shoot someone himself for the mess made in his fine establishment.

“We were just leavin’,” Arthur heaved Lacey around and began strong-arming her toward the stairs. The poor fool that started it was still in a drunken heap on the floor, and Arthur didn’t want any trouble until they were safely back at camp with the night’s take. “This feller’s had a little too much to drink. Tried to calm him down but he can’t even stand- and in a nice place like this, you’d have thought folk might have a little more _decorum..._ ” he pushed himself and Lacey through the crowd before the bartender could decide any differently. “You go get yourself cleaned up and _calm down,_ alright? We’ll get outta here in the mornin’.” He sent her off toward the room and leant by the top of the stairs, lifting his hat to run an exasperated hand through his hair.

“You got yourself a wild one there, partner,” a man in a wide brim hat and bushy moustache nodded in Lacey’s direction.

“Tell me about it,” Arthur threw up his hands dismissively.

“What most fellas miss is that women… women are like horses. You can't just expect them to fall in with you right away. You gotta break ‘em, gotta tame 'em.”  
  
“Is that right?” Arthur raised an eyebrow.

 “Sure as the sun shines. I can tell you think I’m just some country kook talkin’ nonsense. That’s the problem with you city boys. Lost touch with how the world really works, yes sir.”

Arthur laughed to himself, “Well, you might be right. Have a good one, mister.” He tipped his hat and headed to the room.

_Knock knock._

"You decent?" Arthur entered the room cautiously, half expecting to find she had left through the window to chase down the man from downstairs.

Her voice came from behind the ornate privacy screen, "Yes, I am, because this clothing is downright ridiculous. How is one woman supposed to get in and out of this corset!"

Arthur assumed maybe it wasn’t supposed to be a solo endeavour, and shook off his jacket while sitting down to take off his boots. "I don’t know the answer to that. Look, if I come back there and help, you ain't gonna hit me are yer? I’d like to get back to camp in one piece."

After a moment of silence the woman emerged, looking apoplectic and apologetic in equal measure. "Can you just get this damn thing off me?"

Arthur couldn't suppress a chuckle but held his tongue. He pulled himself to his feet and sidled over, placing heavy hands on her shoulders and turning her round so he could see the lacing. He wore his best poker face. "You don't _have_ to beat up every dirtbag you come across, y’know. You’re safe with me. Maybe we could go out once in a while without me pulling you out of another brawl."

Lacey folder her arms, "Don’t tell me how I need to behave. You ain’t got the same trouble as me and I had to fend for myself growin' up. I'm sorry but I ain't a shy ‘n’ retirin’ type. No way I could've been."

Arthur teased the last of the lacing out and loosened the garment. He rested his hands on her shoulders again, a little lower on her upper arm, in a comforting manner. "It must've been hard, I know that. But you're not alone anymore. You don't have to be afraid all the time. You got people that care about you." He squeezed ever so slightly to reinforce his words.

She was silent a moment before peering over her shoulder. “Is that true?” Her breath just danced across his fingers.

“Sure”, he replied sincerely, before lifting his hands consciously and trying to lighten the tone. "So, uh... you need help with the rest of this...?" He gestured over her costume, chuckling awkwardly.

She didn’t seem to hear him, in fact he noticed her whole body seemed to have visibly relaxed. Arthur could read body language well from a lifetime of trouble, and avoiding it, and at this moment she was no longer a coil of anger ready to spring upon anyone who glanced at her the wrong way. After a moment, she turned a little toward him and plucked at her skirt. "Well, this whole outfit is a nightmare, to be honest..."

Arthur blinked. “...I’m sorry?”

She easily unhooked the corset now it was loose and dropped it to the floor, pointing to the fastenings on the back of her flamboyant skirts. “Supposed to have dressin’ people backstage, aren’t ya...”

He was certainly no Lothario, he’d only meant to comfort the girl, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about this before. Maybe he wasn’t mistaken when he thought she’d been looking a little longer than necessary when sharing whisky over the campfire. “I’m no stagehand but, uh, I’ll do my best.” He tentatively untied the garment at the waist, fingers working down the fine fabric as he unbuttoned it as carefully as he could. The close fit and intricate fastening caused his large knuckles to press into the soft of her lower back, and she let out a breath, barely audible but heavy with anticipation. Reassured, he took hold of the waistline and slid the skirt down over her legs, taking in the suspenders and stockings that covered them. _Hell of an idea, Hosea_.

Lightly tracing his hands back up her wonderfully wrapped legs, at her mid-thigh he found her dagger, sheathed within a garter. He took it from its nest and held it in front of her. “Am I dealin’ with a _dangerous_ woman, Miss Cole?” His face was beside hers as he leant over her shoulder to speak. Her hair tickled his cheek, and he could smell her perfume this close. One of the good parts of civilisation.

“Why, I’m always dangerous, sir,” she replied matter of factly.

Arthur stood back and put the dagger down. “Well, disarmed… dis _robed_ … I don’t know about that.”

She turned to face him, face flushed. “I can put up a fight anytime.”

Arthur laughed in a disarming manner and stepped close, “Oh no, no more fightin’ tonight, woman.” He stretched a hand toward her ear, pausing as she flinched ever so slightly, before reaching round the back of her head to tease out the styling pin that held up her hair. Softly he coaxed her long, dark blonde waves down over her shoulder, and his voice dropped to a warm growl. “Tonight you’re gonna _relax_.”

*

Lacey’s stomach fluttered as Arthur’s fingers delved into her hair. She could feel the heat emanating from his arm on her cheek, and she held herself motionless as though wary of surprising a fearsome predator. Yet the way he spoke, _relax_ , lulled her in to a sense of calm. A command, and yet she wanted to obey.

She closed her eyes for a moment and let herself enjoy the sensation as he arranged her hair, before meeting his eyes. Strong blue, like a summer sky, unwavering and deep. Had she ever really noticed? He didn’t speak much and made out he was a simple man, but there was someone in there she wanted to know. Without breaking his gaze she slowly untied her blouse and let it fall from her shoulders, a hint of a nervous smile glancing the corner of her lips.

“You don’t look nearly so mean now as you can be...” Arthur spoke slowly and quietly, as though to himself. Lacey still felt unsure. What was she thinking? She’d asked the wolf to the door and didn’t know what to do next.

“I’m not… I’m not weak, Arthur,” she lost her nerve and folded her arms self-consciously. She wanted her defences back. “I ain’t a scared little girl, alright, I had to get past that. I just wanted… I don't know...”

“Oh I know,” Arthur calmly stepped a little closer, “your weakness is you never let go. You try to control everybody. It’s gonna wear you out, _trust me_ .” He emphasised his words as though he could sense her inward scoffing at the notion of trusting anyone in this life. But he seemed so certain. In thought, she barely noticed his hands cradle her head as he began walking her backwards toward the luxurious hotel bed. His deep voice rumbled in her ear, “From what I can see, anybody tries to control you, they fail. You don’t trust anyone to do it better than you… but you just ain’t met anyone _powerful_ enough to impress you yet-” her feet hit the foot of the bed and she began to topple backwards. Only, her fall slowed. Arthur easily held her in one arm as he lowered them both smoothly into the sheets with his other. She was transfixed on his voice and the feel of his hard, hot body against her soft exposed skin.

Crawling over her, he ran a warm, rough hand from her shoulder down to her waist, drawing a shiver from her. His breath was hot on her neck as he continued, “you’re a _wild_ little thing, and you need _tamin’_...”

A breathy moan escaped Lacey’s lips. The words, the heat, the weight on top of her. All her mind was telling her to get back in control, but it felt _good_. She writhed beneath his lean figure and dared to explore his body with her hands, eagerly beginning to pull at his shirt buttons.

He drew himself up with a light chuckle, “Easy, girl.” He unbuttoned his shirt calmly, deliberately, raking in her half-naked body with his eyes while she lay both embarrassed and excited at being so exposed. “You ain’t got anything you need to be hidin’, girl,” Arthur gently chastised her for covering herself, but took pity as she blushed. “This bed cost a pretty penny, get yourself in there.”

She gratefully took the out he’d given her and curled herself under the sumptuous red silk sheets. She slid over as he joined her, staying quiet as if waiting to see when the wolf would bite. He leaned over her on one arm while stroking her hair and shoulder again, like he was surprised she could actually be so soft. “You’re doin’ very good. Done what I said without any fightin’ or bitin’.”

She’d normally have risen to a comment like that, but she felt paralysed, or hypnotised, she didn’t know. “I can bite if you like...” She wasn’t sure what he wanted.

Arthur laughed, “Aah, that don’t surprise me. But no, I’d prefer you didn’t.”

Lacey just took in his face while he smiled- a rare thing. He was more relaxed than she’d ever seen him, and it shone through at a moment like this. “Then... I won’t,” she offered quietly. He was a wolf, but she figured he liked directness. Games would get her eaten.

He looked at her face for a few seconds as if gauging her sincerity, and seemed satisfied. “That’s a good girl.”

A smile lit up the young woman’s eyes as sunbeams roll across the plains when there’s a break in the cloud. Arthur looked on her curiously. “I never seen you smile like that,” he pondered.

“Mm… nobody ever treated me like this...”

“Shame,” Arthur held the nape of her neck and closed the conversation with a kiss, rolling over into her soft, welcoming embrace.

*

Lacey melted into Arthur’s touch, a shiver running from her stomach out to the tips of her toes and the top of her head. He ran his hand the length of her torso, taking in every curve, squeezing her thigh and working back up. She squirmed beneath him, feeling out the arms that had so easily removed her from trouble earlier. She curled her leg over his, stroking the back of his knee with silky, stocking covered toes. How she’d imagined this, what she thought she’d wanted- it hadn’t worked out that way at all. He was so surprisingly gentle, she felt like she was floating.

He finally broke the kiss, pulled back a little and looked at her. The usually testy, angry, hellwoman was misty eyed, mouth hanging slightly agape, her red lipstick smudged and glistening in the wetness they just shared. “Ho-oh, darlin’,” Lacey saw a delighted glint in his eyes as he chuckled hungrily, and she felt a rush of excitement and pride that it was her making Arthur Morgan so happy. She respected him as one of the more sensible and senior gang members but was also wary of his reputation. Now in his clutches, she felt nothing but content and dumbfounded it was her lying here. Combing thick fingers into her hair on one side of her head he locked her with another kiss.

Lacey moaned and pulled his body closer, hips now writhing under his thighs, yearning to grind herself on his hard body. He maneuvered himself between her legs, pressing his hardness into her silk panties. She let out a long, hungry moan, raking her hands down his back and pulling his cock harder toward her.

 “Nearly there, girl,” Arthur jested, though he was urgent in untying her silk panties and throwing them aside. Lacey started as the cool air met her, before Arthur slid a hand between her legs and teased his fingers across her soaking lips and clit. Lacey bit her lip and met his gaze- he was watching her face while he played, carefully discovering what she craved. Drawing little circles around her centre, her head dropped back and any remaining tension ebbed away. She felt herself opening up, her legs went heavy and sagged as she lost herself in the wonderful feelings Arthur was giving her; she could have lain there the rest of her life. Slowly, he pressed a finger into her folds, just when she thought it couldn’t get any better.

 She could think of nothing else she wanted more than him deep inside her when he pulled out. She draped her arms up over his shoulders as he lowered himself back over her, grasping his thick hair and muffling a throaty moan into his neck as he filled her. He pumped long, slow, and deep, feeling every inch of her, pausing to hear her moan at the end of each stroke. Faster, he took her hand from his hair and held it to the pillow. She didn’t resist, too lost in ecstasy. Faster, she locked her legs around Arthur’s broad hips, wanting to draw him in deeper.

“Such a good girl,” animal in his hunger, but gentle and proud in tone, Arthur growled into her ear as he moved more urgently. His other hand slid up and settled on her collarbone, thumb resting across her throat as his fingers wrapped around the back of her neck. He gripped her with a reassuring force, steadying her as he began to move harder and faster.

Lacey’s heart raced, another shiver coursing through her. To imagine the men who had felt that hand, and it be the last thing they knew. But she trusted him, trusted all that power to be held back. She felt _safe_. She held onto his forearm with her free hand, squeezing as he took the signal to let himself go. He climbed to a powerful rhythm, Lacey losing herself in such pleasure she’d never known, focussing on the feel of his hands holding her firm while he took his carnal enjoyment from her.

“Oh, _such_ a good girl,” Arthur growled as he neared climax.

“Oh, Arthur… yes… please… I want… to be…” Lacey managed broken thoughts between breaths, gripping his arm tighter at his praise.

He growled and moaned as he came, hard, burying himself deep within her while his thrusts gradually slowed. The sound of his pleasure pushed her over the edge. She tensed around him, convulsing against his weight atop her, somehow making it all the better for being unable to writhe how her body wished.

 The comedown came almost immediately. A wave of feeling washed over her, about what she had no idea, driving out tears. Whatever it was, it felt good to get it all out.

*

Arthur lay a few moments catching his breath, idly ruffling his fingers in Lacey’s hair. He’d never known an orgasm so intense. Eventually untangling himself and sinking into the pillows, he noticed the woman holding him was sobbing. He wasn’t unfamiliar with crying women, even in bed, but she didn’t seem sad. He supposed she was relieved not to feel so alone. He knew that feeling. He scooped her close and closed his eyes, her soft hair tickling his chin and the smell of her perfume soothing his dreams.

 


End file.
